


Cream-Filled Manju

by Aenithon



Category: Fate/Grand Order
Genre: Frottage, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-12
Updated: 2020-10-12
Packaged: 2021-03-08 01:20:05
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 954
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26977234
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aenithon/pseuds/Aenithon
Summary: An age-old question: just what do ninja do with the rest of their time?(Twitter poll fic. I do polls and take suggestions for fics every week on Wednesday @aenithon on twitter - please check it out if you're interested.)
Relationships: Fuuma Kotarou | Assassin/Sakata Kintoki | Rider
Comments: 4
Kudos: 8





	Cream-Filled Manju

“Here are the offerings you requested, Lord Kintoki.”

“Kotaro, man...” Kintoki hesitated before accepting the can of soda and bag of chips. Kotaro wouldn't cool it with all the 'let me be of service' and 'please give this one a mission' that he had to give him something to do. “...they're just snacks.”

“You've chosen wisely with selections of quick burn energy, you must intend to enter combat soon.”

“Nah, s'just... had a cravin' is all...”

“O-oh... If that's the case, would you like to try some manju?”

“Manju? I don't remember asking you to-”

“They're homemade. Fuuma Manju.”

“...Ninjas make manju? What's next, shugenja making fudge?”

“Of course not, fudge is hardly an ideal food. These manju,” where did he even get that bag of them from? Ninja worked in mysterious ways, “have an entire day's nutrition. It's the only way to ensure being ready to execute your target after waiting in the rafters the entire day.”

“How do they taste?”

“Taste?”

“Y-yeah, y'know,” Kintoki shifted uneasily in his chair. It was one thing to have a ninja from one of the legendary clans offering him homemade food, but this was starting to sound like one of those weird-tasting meal replacement bars. Plus, it was just weird to have Kotaro kneeling in front of his chair, “like what flavor filling?”

“I-it's...” The ninja looked quite earnestly as though he'd never considered that. “Filling?”

“That's not a flavor, Fuuma.”

“You'll just have to try for yourself. A ninja doesn't think about things like flavor.”

“...When was the last time you had something other than one of those manju, my dude?”

“...”

“That long, huh?”

“You'll understand once you try one!” It counted as very assertive for Kotaro to half-stand from seiza and stick one of the manju in Kintoki's face. But, to be able to reach the taller man's face even when he was sitting, that meant propping himself up with a hand on his thigh. Only thing was, that wasn't thigh his hand was resting on.  
“W-woah, Kota-kun, wait a sec!”

Kotaro gently squeezed the length of flesh he had purchase on, a quizzical look on his face. The expression only grew more so as it swelled with each squeeze.

“Lord Kintoki, are you aroused?”

“C-can't you ask that a bit more tactfully?”

“It's nothing to be ashamed of, my lord. Even ninja have to expel their yang in order to focus on the mission. And to retain optimal levels of yin to avoid notice.”

“Why do you gotta talk like that while you're grabbing my dick!?”

“Because I worry for you, Lord Kintoki.” Quick change wasn't just for ninja outfits, it did just as well taking off his belt and freeing his now rock-hard member from its prison. The ninja nodded in appreciation. “As expected of you; a very noble phallus.”

“Don't call it that!”

“A knightly penis?”

“E-eh, I mean...”

“A nice dick.”

“S-sure, let's go with tha- _aaa_ ,” speaking with a flat tone and steady expression, Kotaro had started to stroke it evenly. Weird, but there was something nice about it.

“Right, it is a nice dick then, Lord Kintoki.”

“Can you explain how we went from buying snacks to you givin' me a handy?”

“As a ninja, it is my duty to see to your needs.”

“But aren't you... y'know...”

“Am I...?”

“D-don'tcha got needs of your own?”

“N-no, I'm quite alr-”

“Then why are ya humpin' my leg?”

“O-oh, so I am. Forgive me, Lord Kintoki.”

Kintoki sighed, and took Kotaro up under the armpits and into his lap. He was every bit as light as his small stature suggested, even sitting down his weight was barely felt. It was nothing compared to the tenting in his pants.

“Woah, damn dude.”

“M-my father was a demon, that's why my hair is...”

His voice receded into heavy breaths as Kintoki parted the sash and freed the small assassin's dick.

“P-please don't look, even the hair there is...”

“That's a pretty nice dick, man.” It bounced at the comment. “Pretty cute, too.”

“T-that's... y-you shouldn't... thank you, Lord Kintoki, I am honored.” Kotaro tried to bow his head, bringing their foreheads together and letting their hot breath meet. There was no going back from here.

Only thing to do was wrap his hand around both of their dicks, spreading his flowing pre over both until they started the lewd noises started to compete with their lusty breathing.

“L-lord Kintoki I...”

“Shh, shh. S'cool man, s'cool.” Kintoki tousled his red hair, lowering his hand to scooch the ninja's ass forward to get them both in better position. It wasn't long before Kotaro was starting to anticipate and shift with the movements of Kintoki's hand, humping the gap formed between the golden one's fingers and his own throbbing cock.

“I... I'm so honored...” Tears tore at the edges of his voice.

“Hey man, you ain't gotta be like that with me. You're pretty golden, y'know?”

With a soft moan, Kotaro started to shudder and thrust more haltingly. Pulling his charge closer, Kintoki brushed his lips against the smaller man's cheek.

“It's okay, man. Just relax and enjoy it.”

“I'm sorry, Lord Kintoki, I-I'm...!”

“T'tell ya the truth man, I'm about ready t'burst, too.”

“B-but... t-together... I – I'm not worthy!”

“What'd I tell ya, Kota-kun? You're golden.”

Each could feel the other's cum building against their own, their breathing and thrusting frantically trying to match in the throes of approaching orgasm. Their voices rose as one, welcoming the hot cum shooting up between them until it was impossible it was to tell whose it was.

They sat their for a while, neither daring to give audible shape to the moment they had shared together.


End file.
